


Deferred

by dreadnot



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, gen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-23
Updated: 2012-06-23
Packaged: 2017-11-08 09:34:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/441768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreadnot/pseuds/dreadnot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief demonstration of compassion for Bruce from Tony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deferred

**Author's Note:**

> LJ's outage is AO3's gain, or something silly like that. This was going to be a kmeme fill for a prompt for Bruce angsting over being unable to have kids and someone comforting him for it. The OP was fine with gen or a Bruce/Tony pairing, and I went with Bruce and Tony gen.

She’s beautiful – small and round, pink and soft, smelling of powder and clean skin and that indefinable (Bruce thinks it’s pheromonal – a survival trait, and an effective one at that) something that makes babies irresistible. 

She. Is. Perfect. 

Bruce holds the baby as though she is the center of his universe and doesn’t even notice how much Tony’s interest has sharpened on him since Pepper put her infant niece in his arms. Just as well, it would hurt. 

He imagines what his life would be like if she were his daughter, maybe with Betty. She would grow up with two adoring parents who would read to her, take her to museums, let her sit in the corner of the lab with her dolls and her trucks and her Avengers action figures, who would give her their worlds to see her smile and grow and…

…and scream in terror on the day that Daddy loses his temper and the Hulk destroys her home, stomps her puppy, and hurts—

Her beautiful face blurs and Bruce feels his smile break for a moment. He has to pass her back to Pepper with the excuse that he has to hit the gent’s. No diaper for him, he jokes, and leaves the office at a swift pace before anyone notices how forced his smile has become, brittle on his lips, cheeks caught in what he imagines must be more a rictus than a grin. 

The worst of it is how angry it makes him – angry at himself, at his father, at fate for making him what he is, at Betty for not being there, at the Other Guy for always being there just under his skin waiting to ruin _everything_. At himself. Always at himself, because ultimately, it’s all, _always_ his fault. 

He’d hoped for a family once. He’d thought that Betty would teach him what he’d never learned at home about being a parent. 

That’s all gone and it’s no one’s fault but his own. 

He doesn’t register the walk from Tony’s office to the bathroom – one moment he’s handing the baby to Pepper, the next he’s leaning over the sink peering in the mirror checking his complexion. The hectic red patches on his cheeks don’t worry him. Red is better than green.

The door swings open behind him, he sees Tony in the mirror unapologetically holding up the key. “Executive washroom.” 

Bruce drops his eyes and turns on the water in the sink, filling the bowl of his hands before putting his face in the water. Maybe if he keeps his face in the water long enough, Tony will get bored and leave. 

“If you’re waiting for me to get bored and leave,” Tony says almost presciently, “I should warn you that I can work here just as easily as I can in my office and Pepper won’t ask me to hold the baby. Do you know how hard it is to get baby vomit out of this wool? I don’t, and I don’t intend to find out.” 

Looking up, Bruce sees that Tony is holding a Stark phone and has transformed the bathroom mirror into a display of the security feed in his office. Pepper is flipping through virtual folders on Tony’s desk with the baby settled comfortably on her hip. Like everything Pepper does, she makes it look natural and – not effortless – well-choreographed.

“She’s good at that,” Bruce says, because she is, and because Tony has invaded his privacy when he wanted to be alone, he adds, “She takes care of a big baby all the time, a little one must be easier.” 

Tony barely glances up from his phone. “I’ve tried to get her to breastfeed, but she shuts me down every time. Oh, and by the way, I’m still not leaving.” 

It’s just another way for Tony to poke him with pointy things, but dammit, Tony’s the only person who _will_ poke him. He’s just as squishy as any other human without the suit, but Tony is willing to risk the Other Guy coming out to play. 

It’s as close to feeling normal as Bruce gets most of the time. 

“Does that mean we have to have a bonding moment?” Bruce asks. “Can’t we just take it to the lab and find volatile reagents instead?” 

“Been there, done that, my therapist tells me that I need to make more human contacts and you’re the next best thing.” 

Bruce boggles for a moment before realizing Tony has to be lying. “You don’t have a therapist.” 

Tony finally swipes his fingers over his phone, blanking the scene in the office back to a mirror before he slips the phone back into his pocket and leans his back against the door. “Jarvis is the best therapist money can buy. If I don’t like what he says, I can mute him.” 

“And Jarvis says you need more human contacts?” 

Come to think of it, Jarvis probably has said exactly that, perhaps with an added observation that they should be clothed and that recurring contacts should not chosen by cup size.

“Yes, now let’s get the bonding over with so I can get back to convincing Pepper that I would be a terrible father. You don’t know the gleam she gets in her eye after a visit with her niece.” For a moment, past the blithe surface, Bruce sees something else, something familiar. It’s like a mirror of some of his own fears and regrets. 

Or it’s an hallucination, because it’s gone in a blink and Tony’s pushing forward the way he always does, like a Hulk in a china shop as it were. “You can’t have kids. God knows what the gamma radiation’s done to your swimmers, you refuse to drop the torch for Betty but you won’t let her back in your life because,” here his voice changes to lightly mock Bruce’s, “‘I don’t want to hurt her,’ and every now and then you turn into a huge green rage monster – of which we’ve already ascertained I’m a big fan. Does that cover it?”

Before Bruce can answer, Tony adds, “Wait, I forgot – _and_ your father was an abusive alcoholic, which would give even the non-green, non-raging people issues with fatherhood.” 

It’s like a punch in the gut and it makes Bruce want to return the favor with a real fist rather than a metaphorical one. 

It’s also true. All of it. 

Is it any wonder that anger is the soundtrack of his life? Life sung in the key of rage. 

His silence is answer enough for Tony, and Tony’s tone when he goes on is gentler than Bruce is accustomed to, and that also makes an impact. “Don’t have kids. We’d both be shitty parents for our own reasons, but we can do better for kids that are already out there. Pick your research, pick your charity. Stark Industries will fund you all the way. Do you want to go back to Calcutta? I’ll set up a clinic there for you. Do you want to research here? R&D is your playground. Do you want me to tell Pepper to give me a few minutes to get you out of the office when she brings the baby around? Done.” 

Tony finally leaves the door and pushes past Bruce to wash his hands. “You can angst about it if you want. Your brooding will counterpoint my brash charm and make me look even more charismatic, so it’s a win-win.” 

Coming from Tony, this has been compassionate and downright warm, and enough of a shock to Bruce’s system to let him shove some of the regret back in its box where he can forget about it until the next time he holds a baby and smells the top of her head and thinks of—

“You’re doing it again.” Tony grabs his arm and pulls him toward the door. “Come on. I want your opinion on this app I set up; it calculates my percentage bump in ‘Hottest Man on Earth’ polls depending upon my tailor, car, and sunglass brand.” 

“I can give you my opinion without seeing it,” Bruce protests as he lets Tony drag him out of the bathroom. 

“I know, but giving you a chance to insult my overweening ego always makes you feel better.” 

And with that, he’s out of the bathroom and pulled along in the orbit of Tony Stark’s overweening ego, and it’s true, he does feel better already.


End file.
